It is not just a game, silly!

It was all set! I had decided, it will be a day off from all the work and me and my son would devote entire day, watching the much-awaited, much-anticipated semi-final match between India and Australia, Cricket World Cup 2015. Like any other devoted Indian cricket fan, the day was spent, doing just that; relaxing on couch in front of the television, enjoying nonstop supply of snacks without worrying about calories, jumping with joy and shouting at peak of voice when India took any run or wicket and forgetting the world! What a great stress buster!

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Unfortunately, India lost the match and the hell broke loose! Like it happens every time India loses a cricket match, disappointments were expressed on how team India could have done much better. (No, in cricket crazy nation like India, one doesn't need expertise in the game to understand/appreciate/criticize/ and pass vehement judgments. We Indians feel, it is our birth right to question/criticize just about anything when it comes to this game and we firmly believe in passing on our wisdom to the next generation! Pardon me, I am digressing.) 

It was sad end to the day that had started with anticipation of victory and hope of basking in its glory till the final match. There was so much to look forward to in the next few days! The most saddening part was what followed the defeat at Sydney.

Some of the Indian cricket fans started incessant trolls against Bollywood actress Anushka Sharma, for her presence at the match to support her rumoured boyfriend, Indian cricket team's vice captain, Virat kohli! The social media went berserk! The fans, shocked and dejected by the defeat went bonkers writing nasty, insensitive and sarcastic remarks about Anushka Sharma and Virat Kohli condemning her presence as "panauti" (inauspicious)! It all began the moment Virat got out and team India started losing its grip on the match. Anushka Sharma became the target of twitter. The content of the memes were viciously spiteful and obscenely crude. 

While the whole day was spent watching good cricket, it ended on a bitter taste not because of India's defeat but because some of the Indian fans, senior media journalists and some well known cricketers of past blamed and questioned integrity and commitment of team India. The way everyone sulked with extreme reactions spewing venom, vile sexism and slander is truly shocking. 

It is great to like a game, support it with every possible way that a fan should. But, blaming a woman who is present as a viewer just like thousands other cricket lovers for the defeat is a reflection of primitive, misogynist mindset of Indian society where a woman is blamed for just about everything that goes wrong with a man.

Does being an ardent fan of cricket gives right to break windows and pelt stones at the houses our cricket players? Should media have any moral obligation for unbiased journalism or it should be allowed to abuse its power by creating sensational news for sake of TRPs? 

Being a cricket crazy nation, it is always painful for the fans to accept the defeat with élan. But vandalism and extreme reactions displayed in the India-Australia match yesterday is unacceptable. It is cricket, a sport. Not just means to escape from the mundane. Not a "paisa vasool" titillating Bollywood movie for our entertainment. Certainly not one more opportunity for media to catch eyeballs by creating stories in unprofessional manner.  

If we make big proclamations of being diehard cricket fans, we owe to the game to show some maturity in viewing it as just a game. If we celebrate every single victory of the cricket match then it is also important to learn to take defeat in our stride. It is high time we learnt to respect the spirit of this game of cricket. 

Tikar, Where the time stands still !

Elders sitting at the temple and chatting whole day

One of the colourful doors of a "haveli"

Shops at market

A beautiful edifice of a closed house

Elders in the village sit for the whole day and catch up with passers by 

A silent stream by the village

Last week, I went to Gujarat for some work and could not resist paying visit to Tikar, my hubby's native place. It is almost a ritual to go there at least once a year for thanksgiving to the family deity from hubby's side. Each time I go there, I am fascinated! 

Withering under half empty, lonely homes, whose younger generation has long gone in search of better livelihood, the village has managed to carry on with its problems and adding a few more with great élan. There is immense potential residing within the village yet in its weave and warp, it has remained almost unchanged. Life is strongly bound and playing quintessential host is an honour no one likes to miss.

It looks very peaceful and so quiet that it can fill up enough of a life that you don't have to spend your days thinking about the things you'd rather not.  I watched a farmer tend to his sheep and round up errant donkeys in his compound, his face a slab with a couple features chiseled in. I wondered why he is even bothering. One glance at his house offered the answer: his father laid mouldering in bed, near his end in the wooden bed ( Khatlo) under the stark Sun and women were cleaning soiled linens and utensils as part of the same what-else-you-gonna-do grind. 

There was little dialogue and even less incidents. Life is expected to remain slow and languid. It was all so quiet that the loneliness is captured and amplified subtly. Nothing was going to rush the old man leading his donkey up the hillock. The women untangling knots in their grand daughters' hair under the Neem tree had all the time in the world. A stream that was struggling to flow was so calm in the limited flow that it was hard to tell if it was moving at all. 

Nestled near the desert with trace of its harshness, Tikar has an air of unflappable serenity. This small hamlet seems to have slipped through the net of history, preserving a way of life that is vanishing all over the world. The locals, mostly farmers, are usually friendly. This is not always the case in small, rural communities. But because of the village's remoteness, the ratio of people returning to natives is low enough for local people not to feel threatened or overwhelmed. 

The herons, wagtails, kingfishers, bee-eaters, parakeets, dippers, ducks, and so many more birds and insects charm you with their sheer abundance! Tikar has things you can't find in cities. Silence! Space! The beauty of nature! Light. Real darkness! 

Architecturally, it is not really remarkable: it is the conjunction of people and landscape, in a relationship which has not changed for centuries and that is what really seduces the eye. 

When you see life taken at this serene pace, it alters your whole world view. You see things you would normally miss, take pleasure from the small change of daily existence: a dog barking at a cat; an old man lighting his pipe; a pine tree swaying in the breeze, children playing with moped tyre. 

I spent almost two hours spellbound by the drama unfolding! Buffaloes, cows, pigs, goats, dogs, cats, villagers on mopeds, old women carrying heavy baskets on their heads with great ease and children playing, running around passed me by, first dishing out a dismissive look of comic curiosity and then smiling, laughing and a few trying to engage me in conversation.

The stillness of the air and jutting of trees in horizon, the beauty of the moment brought lightness that is beyond description. That invisible load that we urbanites seem to carry sometimes, suddenly evaporated, slowly getting un-tethered from my soul  leaving in its wake an empty, light space. I returned home cleansed, rejuvenated in my body, mind and spirit engulfed with divine calm!

A Nation without spine

At last, I saw the much talked about documentary, "Daughters of India" and frankly, my head is spinning and I am consumed with complete revulsion not only because of its content but also what has followed after the documentary was made public and subsequently banned! 

As a human being I feel numb and ashamed by this entire controversy. How can anyone be interested in giving voice to a hardcore criminal, who doesn't flinch while indulging in barbaric, dastardly acts of inhuman cruelty? I wonder, if women have any hope in this Nation without a spine? Or for that matter, any where in the world, at all?  

The case against criminals covered in the documentary is sub judice. In my personal opinion, despite all the claims by the maker of the documentary, it was filmed surreptitiously showing no regard for Indian laws for voyeuristic purposes that smells British hangover of colonial supremacy over India laced with moralistic tone. 

Honestly, the way the whole documentary stresses misogynistic mindsets of criminals and their lawyers, the smugness of the rapist, who despite the proof still maintains his innocence and the manner in which "views" of the criminals and their family members are contrived makes one wonder if the purpose for this documentary was to create sensation. Why should a viewer need to listen to the rapist, a psychopath gloating, "She (the victim) should just have been silent and allow the rape." ?! We already know about such filthy mindsets from our own backyards, work places and society. It is high time we DID something about it and started working on finding solutions right from the grass root level. 

One more equally shocking truth in this entire episode of controversy is the failure of the government in enforcing law when the documentary was filmed. Instead of going in denial and cry foul, as a Nation we must admit and accept the fact that this documentary and the manner in which it was filmed flouting all the Indian rules is a clear reflection inability of Indian state to implement its own laws. As a Nation we stand exposed with our fault lines yet again! 

It is time for deep introspection. And introspect we must! Because lynching of an alleged rape victim is NOT an answer to crime against women! It is a matter of shame if we still don't realise it.

A bad girl, a good boy !

As I write this post, there is a heated discussion going on television and the digital space is berserk with controversy about the interview of one of the convicts of Nirbhaya's gang rape and murder for a documentary by a British film maker for BBC.

The sum and substance of the interview is a reflection of regressive mindset, flawed attitude, a harsh reality of a parochial mental outlook towards women that seep through India:

1. "A girl is far more responsible for rape than a boy."

2. "You can’t clap with one hand – it takes two hands. A decent girl won't roam around at 9 o'clock at night.

3. "A boy and a girl are not equal. Housework and housekeeping is for girls, not roaming in discos and bars at night doing wrong things, wearing wrong clothes."

4. "About 20 per cent of girls are good.

6. "The death penalty for a rapist will make things even more dangerous for girls. Earlier, they would rape and say, ‘Leave her, she won’t tell anyone.’ Now when they rape, especially the criminal types, they will just kill the girl. Death.”

Abhorrent! To say the least, right? 

Last week, a loud, satirical poster, titled, "A bad girl"("Ek buri ladki") went viral on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Derived from the aesthetics of old-school Indian Adarsh Balak posters, this one shows a sari-clad woman indulging in activities that are usually deemed unsuitable for her. So, there she is — pouting, smoking, drinking, riding a bike, raving in Goa, watching pornography, letching at boys and falling in love in a park, walking around with open hair, she cannot make proper rotis, eats too little or too much and above all, she has breasts!!

Needless to say why this satirical poster has received stardom on digital media!

The internet is a vast repository of images that not only fails to amuse us but also helps us have glimpse of what is going on in our society. Every single day, we read about inhuman acts of sexual perversion, abuse, kidnapping, rape, incest, burning, acid attacks, dowry deaths, and so many gruesome acts of oppression of women, across all categories and class, that such news sound very "routine." 

Ask any woman, how it feels to be raped through eyes of sick men with deviant minds. Listen to their pain and humiliation of being groped by some pervert at the crowded place. We claim to honour and worship Goddess Shakti and respect her personification in women. We take pride in "Indian culture" and our "age old traditions" and fight for it when it is threatened. Let's do the realty check. 

None of the crimes I mentioned above, really shame us! The truth of our reality is in female infanticides being devoured by sewages from rural as well as global metro cities. Our reality is charred bodies in dowry and tandoor deaths. Our reality is, painfully disturbing, rotting stench of female foetuses and the hanged bodies of "honour killings". This is our TRUE "culture" and the manner in which we "honour" women. 

Rapists don't belong to any particular city, caste or community. This is a kind of breed is product of environment, that treats women as commodity, to be used, abused and treat inhumanly without iota of any guilt or shame. Such mindset gets nurtured from very formative years that deeply ingrain the message that men are superior to women. I bemoan lack of will and vigilance that any civilized society should display and be accountable for. It is sad that we lack basic education in humanity and forget that education starts from home. 

I am neither a feminist nor do I believe that all men are perverts. As a human being, every time I read about oppression of women, or for that matter any human being, I lament death of basic humanness that connects us all. 

The excerpts from the interview of one of the convicts of Nirbhaya case are painfully shocking and while it might brew our blood, it is imperative to check if we are teaching our children right values. 

This moment too shall pass!

Things have been different around the house off lately. It is past midnight and as I write this, there is complete quiet here. Not the usual, joyful, serenely comforting calm of my home but the suffocating silence and it is unsettling. 

I am feeling bit rung out of energy with my tired body that is uncooperative to the will. My mind is constantly reiterating on doing double time with me even while I am on verge of collapse any moment! It is a very peculiar feeling to be physically exhausted, emotionally drained and yet your mind wanting to work relentlessly. While my body and mind struggle to have a compatible, synchronized rhythm, there is a quiet riot in my heart. I am stressed, withdrawn, looking blankly outside my window.

I stare vacuously at the screen of my laptop. A glance at the photo on the screen and it brings alive, hues of twilight sky. I look out from the window with weary eyes and the silhouettes of a quiet night calms my nerves for a moment. The cool breeze, a few shining stars and random barking of a street dog keep me company while weight of each moment passing by becomes difficult to bear. 

At the table near me are the medical files of my mother in law on which I have worked for last four hours, planning next course of action, figuring out how to accommodate her dozens of tests and counseling sessions with psychiatrist in a routinely frazzled schedule. Having a cancer patient in the house is painfully long and deeply exhausting experience.   

I am on the brink, physically and emotionally. A casual insensitive remark a relative made last week rings in my mind, yet again! I can't stop thinking how inflicting pain seems to be uniquely human trait because in Nature, creatures kill one another for the sake of food, dominance or territory. Why do we do it? Why do we stand by and watch others passively while they suffer and add to their pain and attain joy out of it? Some incidents bruise you deeply questioning the very basis of relationships within family and outside it. Past few months, me and my family have experienced harrowing time.

Not many of us honour life but when people fail to disregard decorum and sanctity that life threatening illness naturally commands, the realization numbs you.

I keep reminding myself "this moment too shall pass". From across the window I hear little chirping of birds, indicating arrival of new day. I dash to the bed praying God to grant me and my family all the strength and equilibrium to help us pass through this difficult phase in our life and ability to accept what is beyond our control and garner acceptance and serenity.